


The Past is the Past

by Ninjabunny99



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Future Fic, Hannibal Lecter Loved Will Graham, I really don't know where I was going with this, M/M, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, Will reflects on life, but here it is anyway, interview format, kinda a character study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 07:22:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16471247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ninjabunny99/pseuds/Ninjabunny99
Summary: Years after Hannibal's death, Will Graham found his way back to Maryland and was sentenced to life in prison. Now he has finally begun permitting interviews to select journalists eager for a firsthand account of life with Hannibal the Cannibal. On a brisk day on February 16, 2039, Jessica Reba sat down with Will as he reminisced about his life with Hannibal.





	The Past is the Past

**Author's Note:**

> Warning, there is a mention of the attempted rape of an unnamed character. The person does not succeed or even really get a chance to try, but if that bothers you either don't read this or don't read the second paragraph under the question "Why did you kill Christopher Noble?"

_The following is the transcript of an interview with inmate William Graham led by Jessica Reba on February 16, 2039_

**What was the nature of your relationship with Hannibal Lecter?**

The exact shape of what we were to each other is incredibly hard to define, but I think it can be simplified down to love, in some form or another. While I do feel that my connection to Hannibal extends far beyond that word, it's a good enough fit to suit our purposes.

**Could you describe what it was like being in such a close relationship with him?**

Loving Hannibal was... like I said it's hard to describe. It was an adventure. It was fantastic. It was both the hardest and the easiest thing I've ever done in my life. I loved him so completely that after his death I no longer felt like a whole person, I still don't now. And for however long I have left here, I don't think I ever will. I tried for so long to  _not_ love him, but in the end there was nothing I could do about it. Love paid me a visit and then refused to ever leave.

**Would it be alright if I asked about some specific people and cases throughout the years? Some of the ones that made it into the public eye?**

Yeah, sure, go ahead.

**Starting with some earlier ones, the Minnesota Shrike and the Copycat Killer. In your words, what were your and Lecter's roles in those cases?**

Don't phrase it as though you don't know that Hannibal was the Copycat. And in a way he was the Shrike as well, seeing as the real Shrike wasn't named until Hannibal planted that girl on a stag's head for all to see.

But to answer your question, that was really the start of it all. My empathy disorder allows me to crawl into the mind of basically anyone. The FBI made very good use of me for a little while, catching the people they were trying to catch. In order to protect me as an asset, Hannibal was hired to be my psychiatrist to keep my head on straight. Not that he actually did, but that was why we were introduced. My disorder always drew me toward the extremes of humanity, there was more for me to latch onto and entrench myself in. Hannibal saw this in me and it piqued his curiosity, and he decided to see where he could lead me. As you probably know, I killed the Shrike while he was trying to kill his daughter. What you don't know is that Hannibal called him minutes before we got there and warned him we were coming. He wanted to see what would happen if I was faced with a murderer who was out of control. It  _broke_  something in me when I killed him. It was a nasty, ugly thing, I still don't see any beauty in his death when I look back, but there was also a part of me that liked it. Back then I couldn't reconcile those two realities. Hannibal wanted to show me how, and began to shape me into the person he believed I could be while also seeing how far he could push me.

Those early days, before he framed me, before all the attempts in each other's lives, were really wonderful in their simplicity. Of course, this was only from my point of view, when I thought he was just my psychiatrist and my friend. I had him and I had--. . . He may have been toying with me then but I was blissful in my ignorance and relatively content compared to what came later.

**What about your trial?**

For a long time in that hospital all I felt was rage at Hannibal. And then at the whole world because nobody else believed me that it was him. Hannibal did a very good job of making sure he was the defining feature in my life from the first time I met him onward, and during that time my preoccupation with him was all consuming. When he killed Beverly, one of the few people I could honestly count as a friend, that was the final straw. It's fitting that he was the first person I actively tried to kill.

**You've mentioned that in previous interviews, but could you go into more detail about that for me?**

My orderly at the hospital was a serial killer, who thought I was a serial killer and trusted me because of that. More importantly, he was a serial killer who believed me that Hannibal was a serial killer. I saw my chance to end the man who was destroying my life and had killed my friend and I jumped on it.

**What about Beverly Katz?**

I have spoken about her in the past and I would prefer not to now. She was very dear to me and I want to respect her memory and leave it at that.

**Okay, I'll move on. We know now that Lecter was the also the one who proved your innocence, why do that after framing you? And after you tried to have him killed?**

He proved my innocence  _because_  I tried to have him killed. He was offended that I went after him, but he was also waiting for a sign that I was willing to take that extra step. He'd spent all his time pulling at my mind and soul, waiting for me to either snap or surrender. That was my surrender.

**We spoke about Garrett Hobbs, the Minnesota Shrike, what about his daughter, Abigail Hobbs?**

I don't want to talk about her.

**Are you sure? Reports say you were very close to her.**

I will not talk about her. I'm going to ask you not to mention her again or I will end this interview.

**Alright. What about the Tooth Fairy?**

I don't particularly enjoy reminiscing about Francis Dolarhyde. Most of that story is public knowledge now, so I won't go into it, but the end of that debacle brought about my last attempt at destroying Hannibal and the version of myself that he brought out in me. It was a grand effort, I threw both of us off of a cliff, but when we both survived that the fight went out of me. It was more or less my final surrender to myself and to Hannibal. Somehow through all of that he never stopped loving me, and after that I finally allowed myself to truly love him back.

**Christopher Noble.**

Ah yes. Christopher. He was the first person Hannibal actually felt compelled to kill after we took our dip in the Atlantic. You wouldn't even know his name in normal circumstances, but it turns out that killing such a pure, red-blooded American on foreign soil is unfortunately the perfect way to stir up a media frenzy. We had no idea who he was until well after the fact, but a veteran going missing in a foreign country only to turn up in pieces made a big enough splash that word got back around to us. I will admit I did enjoy scattering his body parts around the country. And Hannibal was always the most in his element when he was cooking his preferred type of meat.

**And by that do you mean human?**

Yes. Did that last statement rub you the wrong way? I saw your face change. Don't forget who you're interviewing here.

**Why did you kill Christopher Noble?**

See, after Hannibal and I ran off together, I convinced him to change his patterns. I never pushed farther than I thought he would let me, but I still altered him in ways he didn't expect. He told me once that he would stop all of it if I asked him to, but after knowing him for so long I don't think he really could. For Hannibal, killing was a need, just like eating or sleeping. He elevated it to an art, he made even the most ugly deaths beautiful, he breathed new life and meaning into the person just by bringing about their death. Even if no one else could see it, I could. I always could. And I knew in my soul that he would never be able to give up his craft, and I would never want him to. But rudeness never seemed like a great enough offense to warrant being on the receiving end of Hannibal's gift, so got him to refocus his efforts on the true scum of society, the true pigs.

Christopher Noble was a rapist. I watched him flirt with a college age girl in a bar, watched him guide her outside with a hand on her shoulder. I followed him out and found him in the alley, pinning her against the wall. He hadn't gotten anywhere yet, but it's not like I needed to see him commit the crime to know where he'd been heading. Everything was very simple from that point on. The girl left. He didn't. I called Hannibal, and made sure Noble understood that he was coming with us. Then Hannibal arrived and all the beauty we had both been missing came with him. I swear even the stars shone a little brighter when he appeared.

**What about Clarice Starling?**

Clarice Starling. Yeah, she certainly marked what I would call a contentious time in our relationship. She was smart and was able to match wit with Hannibal more often than not. He had some fun with her at first, and I'll admit that I did too, but then he got an idea in his head of how he could really use her. He wanted to get something out of her, to use her get his sister back. And when she didn't give him that, he tried to use her to get something out of me. It was one of the few times I didn't give him the satisfaction.

**Can you explain what you mean by that?**

I think that ultimately he wanted me to kill her. That in itself wasn't uncommon, but he wanted me to kill her out of jealousy. It was, frankly, quite insulting to sit there and listen to him talk about how much "capacity for growth" she had while he watched me out of the corner of his eye, hoping for a reaction. I was usually willing to give him anything he wanted, and he would return in kind, but I refused to give him that. Eventually he tired of her and returned to me.

**Starling made quite the news story when she was discovered alive. I don't know a better way to phrase this, but why didn't Lecter kill her?**

Why didn't we eat her you mean? I refused to. Same as I refused to kill her, I made it clear that I would not eat any part of her. She was never rude enough for Hannibal's tastes anyway. He honestly respected her for holding on to her sense of self. That was something I was never quite able to do, my empathy had a way of pulling him right into my head. I will admit now that I did envy her for that. She was willing to give everything up and stay with him without ever losing herself to him, while the lines between he and I warped and blurred in my head daily. But Hannibal realized that the connection we had was unique, and that while she might have remained a fun plaything had he accepted her, she would never be anywhere near his equal. She would not have been able to change him the way I had.

**After Clarice Starling, the two of you seemed to vanish. Where did you go?**

We stayed in the US for quite a while, then bounced around to a few islands and rural villages in other countries that we could reach by boat. I've detailed our "grand tour" in a previous interview, so I won't go into the specific locations. We generally found ourselves confined to backwoods living that suited me just fine, but clashed with Hannibal's finer tastes. He missed our time in France and always complained about how he hadn't gotten to properly introduce me to Italy. We had both been there together but it was a relatively short time period that ended with him trying, and nearly succeeding, to eat me. Anyway, after we let Clarice go, we needed to find each other again. Our solitude allowed us to do that. You probably noticed that we have no confirmed victims during this time period?

**Yes I did, I was going to ask about that**   **.**

Hannibal stopped putting them on display. They are all counted as missing persons, as well as one hit and run victim. The murders, the games we would play leading up to them, the dance as we teased and pushed each other as we strung along our pig until he dealt the final blow, all of it formed our intricate love letters to the other. Hannibal's murders were secret and sacred to us then, and they were not something to be shared with the rest of the world.

I also rarely was the one to actually kill the person. I participated, actively participated in the whole ordeal, so I don't mean to say I didn't get my hands bloody. Hannibal and I used to play with the idea of who "technically" killed each one. But I liked to see Hannibal in the final moments. The rapture on his face, the odd little shadow of sadness, the way he would close his eyes and breathe in as their heart stopped. It was a beauty to behold, really. It almost felt holy, like some divine light stretched between us, closing out the rest of the world and enshrining the beautiful picture before me.

I'm sorry if this is difficult for you to hear, Jessica. I promised myself I would speak plainly in these interviews, and I know this sort of thing is hard for most to swallow. You seem to be kind, and so far you have been respectful to me.

**It's alright, I'm just surprised by how excited you still get about it. Did you really stop killing after Lecter's death?**

I did. Without Hannibal, the beauty ceased. I can look back and see with perfect clarity the light that shone on it all before he died, and how afterwards the light vanished and it all became incredibly ugly to me. Many things did, in fact. Even things that objectively, most people would say are beautiful or at least pleasant, like the sunset or a glass of wine. Hannibal had bled into my life and painted everything he touched in hues of red and gold, without him the world lost it's luster.

**I know you knew this part of the interview was coming, and I am hoping you will be okay with discussing it with me. Could you tell me about Hannibal Lecter's death?**

What do you want to know?

**Whatever you are willing to talk about.**

Hannibal died of a heart attack. I am always unclear on my belief in any sort of deity, but if there is one out there I am still deeply angry with him for that. Hannibal and I always expected to be each others undoing, and the fact that he died by anything other than my hand hurts me like a physical pain. A constant phantom ache deep in my chest where our connection was severed before it's time. It was supposed to be me, I was supposed to be the last face he saw as I brought him a dignified end, and breathed my own life and meaning into the end of his. Instead I got a complaint of a pulled muscle in his arm, a thud as he collapsed in the other room, rolling eyes and fading muscles spasms, and panic as the light bled out of him beneath my fingers. It was not his time to go. We were not done with each other yet, and then he was just  _gone_. 

**You loved him, but you wanted to kill him?**

Of course I did! I loved him despite wanting to kill him, I loved him  _because_  I wanted to kill him. Do you know how deeply intertwined those sort of emotions are? Love and hate are not at opposite ends of the spectrum. They sit right next to each other in your heart, and blend and merge so that you often can't tell them apart. I was always amazed by my own capacity to forgive Hannibal. He caused me so much pain, and took so much away from me, but I always forgave. There was nothing else I could do, I really had little say in the matter each time I forgave him. I would just suddenly realize that I no longer held any fire in me about something he did. But forgiving isn't forgetting. The fire may go out but a burnt patch remains. I loved him and he loved me, and we both understood that in the end I couldn't let him get away with everything that he did to me.

**What did you do after he died**   **?**

I took him home. It was difficult getting him there, it's very hard to transport a dead body without raising suspicion, but I knew he had to be buried with his sister. Nothing else was ever an option.

**What was your reaction when they exhumed his body?**

At first? Pure anger. Deep, visceral anger. After everything? The universe hadn't allowed him a proper death, and now they weren't even letting his body stay where it was? I don't know what they intended to find when they pulled him out of the ground, but I don't think they found it or they would have taken him with them. I calmed down when they buried him there again. The part that matters to me is just that he is  _there._  I will always know where to find him, and I think that he is finally where he belongs.

**Reports indicated that his heart was missing? What happened to it?**

His heart was what betrayed him, I couldn't let him be buried with it. I did an awful job getting it out of his body, seeing how I completely lack even the smallest amount of his surgical talent, but in the end it was out and that's what mattered. I didn't eat it, which I'm sure is what you're thinking. I embalmed it, put it in a box, and buried it by itself. I am not going to say where because I don't want anyone to dig that up too. There are still a lot of people out there who worship serial killers, and I would imagine that many would see the heart of Hannibal the Cannibal as quite a prize if they could get their hands on it. But his heart is where it belongs too, and that is where it needs to stay.

**Why did you stop hiding? You hid so well from the authorities for years, and then all of a sudden they had all the information they needed to find you, and now here you are. I've never seen a manhunt last for so long only to wrap up so quickly.**

Like I said, without Hannibal so much of the world became ugly to me. Ugly and tired. I was done being the cause of death. I had no one, knew no one, and I got tired of that too. It was a simple matter of setting up an online presence, going to a few more populated locations, getting caught by the same security cameras multiple times. The FBI never stopped looking for me, they take it personally when one of their own goes off the rails. And you're right, it didn't take long. I started to play a game with it, seeing how obvious I had to be before they found me, but I didn't even have to go very far before they were at my front door.

**You allowed yourself to be captured and arrested because you were lonely?**

I take it you've never felt the full power of loneliness. I lived alone, in almost total isolation, for five years after I buried Hannibal. The death sentence was abolished in the US while Hannibal and I were abroad, I knew I wasn't risking my life. So yes, I was lonely, and yes, giving myself up was my solution. It's not so bad here. I'm at least likely to die of natural causes.

**Mr. Graham, it looks like I am out of time. Thank you so much for speaking with me.**

Of course. You made a good impression, Jessica. I wouldn't be opposed to being interviewed by you again.

**Thank you, I'll keep that in mind.**

Take care, Jessica.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who reads this. I had fun trying to figure out not only what Will and Hannibal may have gotten up to since their dive off of the cliff, but also how Will would have looked back on it 15-25 years later.  
> Quick, hand-wavy timeline:  
> -End of season 3: 2015  
> -Go to France  
> -Death of Christopher Noble: about two years later  
> -Europe, US+Clarice, Europe  
> -Death of Hannibal: about eight years later, somewhere around the age of 60  
> -Will comes back to US  
> -Will is arrested: five years later  
> -Will begins granting interviews: 8 years later, around the age of 65  
> -Jessica Reba interview: 2039  
> Hannibal's heart is buried with Abigail  
> Please comment and tell me your thoughts!


End file.
